


Facing The Sun

by Blessedskies_turning



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:47:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blessedskies_turning/pseuds/Blessedskies_turning
Summary: Bits and pieces from WWeeds until I get it up and running again.  :)
Relationships: maybe
Kudos: 1





	Facing The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't edit this because I got so caught up in writing that I forgot to eat both lunch and dinner :/  
> I'm gonna go eat some vegetarian meatloaf now :D

The sun had turned the sky a pale yellow when Xavier pulled into the Mayfield house. His fingers were warm on the handle as he cranked his car door open. The gravel under his feet was large and sounded like his childhood. Xavier could see movement through the large open windows that framed the kingly house, lots of it. 

Behind him Charity shut the car off, it sighed into a feverish sleep. A tamed beast.   
If there was one thing Xavier had learned from the drive to Max’s, it was that Charity Roosevelt didn’t know how to drive. She just merely pointed the nose of the car where she wanted it to go and pressed the gas.

“As the crow flies,” Xavier remarked to her as she shoved her head into view above the dusty iron horse. 

She leaned on the hood, between the door and the car and peered at him over her glasses. “What?” Her sketchy eyebrows wrinkled, bitchy and insulting. 

Xavier knew there was no heat in her expression, he jerked his head towards the car. “Your driving. It’s like you don’t even watch the road.” 

Charity laughed. All the intimidation sloughing off of her. “Fuck you Loughty.” In the few days Xavier had known her, it hadn’t taken long to see what the was really about. Charity wore cruelty like a medal. Whether it was the worlds, or her own she stitched it into the cuffs of her jeans. 

As they crossed the wide, packed-full driveway to the steps to the front door of the house, Xavier briefly wondered what it would be like to exist inside the hopeless cavern of Charity’s mind. He didn’t linger there for too long. He felt her eyes glance over to him, he knew if he looked up she would keep staring. Part of him wanted to mark it as where the place where dreams went to die, but that wasn’t right either. Charity Roosevelt was cluttered with want, unspoken yearning. He could see the depths of her desire in the way her eyes glittered in the sun. 

It was all smudged out by the harsh truth she so desperately clung to. 

Wordlessly the pair reached the door, Charity stepped forward and knocked. She’d pushed up her sunglasses, and a light breeze dashed through her hair.   
Xavier felt the rumble of the house even before the door swung open. It reverberated through the wood of the porch, and punctured his dirtied sneakers. There were many people inside. Anxiously, his fingers rapped the side of his leg, something he often did when he felt himself getting overwhelmed. It was taking forever for someone to answer the door. 

“Big crowds?”

Xavier glanced over to see Charity staring at him again, her eyes flicked down to his 

hand and then back up again. “Yeah. I guess.” 

“Strange.” She took a big breath and pounded on the door again. “You’d think someone from the city wouldn’t mind lots of people.” 

Xavier’s eyebrows crinkled over the thought. He hadn’t inspected that idea yet, he didn’t have long to stumble over it though, as the handle on the door jerked and with a burst of air and light Max was stand in the door way. His smile was unwavering. He was dressed in an open button up covered in tiny whales and sky blue swimming shorts.    


“Welcome!” He shouted. Xavier felt his heart calm around the sight of Max’s insurmountable joy, a smile appearing edging it’s way onto his face. “If I was being honest I didn’t think you’d show up, Charity.” 

Charity scoffed, and glared a bit at Max. Her smile gave it away however. “Xavier put a gun to my head.” 

Max laughed and bubbles came out of his mouth. “Come on it, I’ll give you the tour!” With that Max let the door open, Charity pushed her way into the house, Xavier quickly following. There was a large curving stairwell to the left, a shoe rack filled with all sorts of scattered shoes and a coat rack covered in purses and recklessly abandoned keys.    


“Feel free to slip your shoes off if you so desire,” Max was using a grand sweeping voice. Charity flung her flip flops into the stack of shoes without missing a beat. 

Voices buzzed all around Xavier. The front door opened into a cosy worn in living room. The large couches were filled with people, all a bit strange looking, but nothing Xavier wasn’t used to seeing. There were kids sprawled over the richly woven rugs and paintings hung on the wood crowned walls. 

“This is the sitting room, right now it’s a congregation of babies, but in the near future they’ll be gone.” Max said, briefly. Xavier noticed that way Charity groaned at the sight of two toddlers trying to mouth each others hands. 

She said, “Gross.” She offered no explanation when Max laughed and when Xavier sent her a scolding grin.    


Everyone was so busy in conversation they barely noticed the two new guests Max had just welcomed into house. The smell of barbecue floated softly through the hall across from them, Xavier could see and equally busy kitchen and a wall of floor to ceiling windows. This is where Max took them next. There were pictures on the walls of the hallways, Max was seen in full grin, hair wet, a lake in the background, two older women wrapping their arms around him. Their smiles were as big as his. 

Xavier saw the way Charity’s mouth wrinkled when it caught her eye. She noticed Xavier’s studying eyes and raised her eye brow at him.  _ Yeah?  _ They said. Whatever snagged her attention in the photo she didn’t care if someone else saw her watching. 

Smoothly Charity asked Max, “Are we getting alcohol, because if so i’m gonna need your parents to drive me home.” 

“It’s a Sunday Roosevelt!” Max cheered. “And if you really want to get drunk then drive yourself down to Stillwater.” 

Charity laughed but Xavier didn’t understand the joke. “Stillwater?” 

From behind Charity said, “Swimming holes. Local kids go down there and drink, smoke. Dumb shit like that.” 

Xavier was going to point out how that sounded mildly dangerous, but they were suddenly thrust into the kitchen. The smell of food and bustling of people all around him immediately kicked the conversation off track. To the right was a large kitchen, everything was sleek and new. White counter tops and eggshell cupboards. A large island was decorated with mismatched dishware holding all sorts of food. People moved about the food, dishing it out onto paper plates, laughing and hugging. Their conversation bellowing around the large house.    


Max pushed his way over to the other side of the island where a women stood with a large knife and a pile of watermelon on her cutting board. “Mom,” He said swiping a piece of fruit from her, he swung his arm to where Xavier and Charity had rallied on the other side of the island. Charity was inspecting a tray of crackers from one she liked. “This is Xavier Loughty, and Charity Roosevelt.” 

The women looked up and smiled. She was incredibly short, and her small hands gripped the menacing knife surely. “Welcome! I’m Mom One, feel free to eat all the food you want, it’s all yours. And there are drinks in the fridge.” She turned to Max, “Will you help your mother bring the chicken in?” 

Max nodded, his cheeks stuffed with watermelon, a red liquid dripping off his chin. Mom One saw this and pressed her lips into a smile and wiped off the juice with her thumb. “Go,” She gave him an encouraging shove, he stumbled and grinning back at her and heading towards the open wall of windows.   
“Need any help?” Xavier called after Max. 

“Sure!” He said around the watermelon in his mouth. Xavier glanced at Charity before following him out, she was too busy slathering a cracker in cream cheese to notice Xavier’s pointed look. 

Trailing Max, Xavier went outside. One of the windows turned out, was a sliding door that opened out onto a great covered deck. A section of the railing outlining the porch broke into stairs that led out into a large meadow, the grass grubby and brown in the summers intensity. Beyond that, a dense line of trees that drew far off into the mountains that cupped the valley.    


Max’s presumable second mother, was tucked in the corner of the porch standing next to a grill that puffed out smoke and smells. She was much taller and had a booming sort of energy as she flipped chicken on the fire, her light brown hair cropped short and the sleeves of her fresh linen blouse rolled up to her elbows. When Xavier approached, Max handed him a weighty platter of chicken thighs that had been slathered in spices and barbecue sauce. 

“Mom, this is Xavier. My other friend is in the kitchen stuffing her face.” Max said, doing 

a small sort of dance in place while holding up an empty plate for his mom. 

The woman sent a quick glance over to Xavier, she was too busy pulling the meat off the 

grill to keep eye contact for long. “Hello Xavier, your shoes are awfully dirty.” 

Xavier glanced down at his muddied sneakers, they had once been white, but it had been made apparent in the week Xavier had spent in Greenhale that white shoes were not a good choice for the rural town. “Yeah, I need to get darker shoes.” 

“You make it work,” she said, it seemed as if the Mayfeild family had a secret pocket in their cheek that they kept an endless amount of smiles in. “Welcome to the family then.” 

Xavier felt the rush of voices around him fall back a bit around Max’s mother. His chest was a bit lighter. He knew now, why max was the way he way. There was a bit of both his moms in him, he had the warm affection from one amplified by the wit of the second. It all pooled together into his passionate knife-edge compassion. 

The only people that didn’t like Max were afraid of his kindness. 

Briefly, as they headed back to the kitchen, Xavier question how Max could balance what seemed like his abundant tenderness and his own needs. But he pushed it away, as they slipped through the backdoor and over to the island where Charity still stood, eating. She was wearing a pair of distressingly torn up jeans, gladiator sandals and a sunflower one piece. 

Charity seemed to always be in a swim suit, although any swimming had yet to be done. She shot Xavier a look and put a grape in her mouth. Max took the plate of chicken from Xavier, and handed it over to his mom who thanked him with a kiss on his cheek. 

“You know.” Charity said lowly, just enough to be heard by Xavier over the small distance and the noise. Her tone was low and flat, all together more serious than usual. Many might think that Charity was always serious, with his sharp eyes and wrung out mouth, but it was in the moments she flared her nostrils and her eyes appeared doe-like when she really meant what she said. 

Xavier knew what she was asking, no telling him. “Yeah, I know.” 

“How?” 

He shrugged, “I’m good with people, I guess.” Max was busy arguing jokingly with his mother over how much watermelon was too much to notice the conversation. And none of the guests at the Mayfield house raised an eyebrow towards the pair. 

Charity squinted at him. “You don’t hate me for it?” 

“Of course not.” 

“That’s a first.” Charity sighed and turned around. “I’m just glad you won’t think I have a crush on you.” 

Xavier brushed his hands off and moved over to stand next to Charity, they watched the windows outside. People lounged on deck chairs, laughing, drinking, the sunset blood orange in the sky now. Xavier could feel the relief bleeding off of Charity, the hairs on his arm standing up at the explosion of her tension. 

Somewhere in the business of the dinner party Charity had gotten her hands on a can of ginger ale. She took a swig, he eyes sharply on the tree line. 

“What do you think of Max’s parents.” She asked. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but this seems like the only possibility now.” Xavier chuckled. “Does this mean we’re friends now? Now, that I know you’re secret.”

“It’s not a secret.” Charity swirled her soda. “It’s there for anyone to know, but you have to understand I don’t really want to be kicked out of my house because of it.” This part she said quietly, like it was a secret. 

Xavier smiled privately. “Would your parents do that?” 

“No but,” there was a heavy sigh, deep from the chest, “look, I’m not afraid of the truth, my truth, but this world, this-this fucking town, they are. They refuse to acknowledge it. Admit to it. For all I care, it’s their problem not mine.” She was looking directly at him, her eyes still wide and her mouth relaxed. Serious. “I just don’t want to deal with their fear, thats why I don’t go around telling people.” 

“Like you do everything else you think to be the truth.” He teased.

She stopped to burn a hole in his face with her eyes. Then, “You never answered me.” 

“Answer what?” 

“When I asked you why you moved to Greenhale, nobody moves to Greenhale. Remember?” 

“Oh,” Xavier shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Uh my grandmother. She’s lived here forever, but she’s not doing too well so, we moved out here to help her.” Xavier remembered the small hospital visit when it’d been decided him and his mom would move. When he looked upset about the sudden news his mom had cupped his face and said,  _ Anything for family. _ Xavier had tried his best to remember that but it had sometimes begun to feel like she meant,  _ Everything for family. _

“That sucks.” Charity said. 

“Anything for family.” 

She scoffed loudly, putting no effort into hiding her distaste for the sentiment. “You don’t believe that do you? Come one, it must suck having to leave all your friends, your home to move out here. Bum-fuck-nowhere.” 

“Eh. Not really, I've already made three friends and I’ve only been here for a week.” 

There was beat and then Charity whipped to face Xavier, a questioning expression on her face. “Three?” 

“Virginia.” He replied pointedly. 

Charity rolled her eyes. “Fuck you.” 

Xavier tried to hold in his laugh as to avoid getting punched by Charity. “Besides that I kind of like it here. It’s quiet. Still. You can hear yourself breathe at night.”

Charity was awfully quiet beside Xavier, again he felt a heavy glance fall over him. He thought about if this is what other people felt like around him, studied. Like he was trying endlessly to figure them out. But Charity’s was different. She was trying to solve the puzzle of every person out by mere scrutiny, where Xavier already knew it. 

“Good with people you say.” She finally spoke. 

“Yes.”    


“What do you mean by that?” She was a handler leading a horse to water. 

“I understand them, I know what they feeling.” 

“That’s it?” She clucked him on, spurs in his sides. 

A pause. “Yes.” 

There was an extended beat where they both knew what was coming because Xavier was good with people and Charity  _ was _ the people. 

“Have you ever thought it was  _ more _ ?” 


End file.
